If Only I Could Forget
by TreenBeen
Summary: Kurt would never forget. And neither would he. Written for a propmt: Kurt begins taking a daily medication. One of the side effects is loss of memory of the hour after he takes it. Burt vents all of his frustrations to Kurt. Kurt didn't take his meds.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: I can't believe it… two fics in two days… it's a miracle. Glee fanfiction is my new addiction. The spacing got all screwy on this one during the transfer (I wrote it on livejournal, Treenbeen24) so I wasn't able to indent paragraphs, but they are pretty distinctly separate. Read and review. This one is a mega angst fest. Enjoy! **

It started fairly mild. Headaches now and then. Slight appetite loss. Nothing major that he couldn't deal with. 

Then came the dizzy spells. 

He was getting up from yet another unfinished dinner when his head swam dangerously, and his vision went white. He swayed, placing a hand on the table to steady himself. 

"You ok, kid?" Burt asked his son as he shook his head slightly, trying to regain his equilibrium. 

"Yeah... yeah, I'm fine... dizzy spell." Kurt answered, taking his dishes to the sink and rinsing them. 

"Another one?" Burt joined his son at the sink as Finn voiced the question. "Dude, that's like... the third one today." 

"I'm fine," was the only reply the gangly teen received. 

"Maybe we should set up a doctor's appointment," Carole suggested from her seat at the table. "Just in case." 

"That sounds good to me." Burt replied. "Ok, Kurt? I'll pick you up tomorrow and take you in." 

"Sure." Kurt said, trying not to let the worry into his voice. He knew his father wouldn't accept any other answer. After his mother's death, he had never taken kindly to hospitals, or doctors. He tried to stay as healthy as possible to avoid just this situation. _  
><em> 

_It's probably nothing,_ he consoled himself as he got ready for bed that night. _You just need to... drink more water, or something. _

Burt, true to his word, picked Kurt up from school tomorrow and they drove down to the local clinic. Kurt fidgeted his way through the waiting room, glancing and his father pleadingly when his name was called. Burt obliged, and went back with his son. 

They told the doctor Kurt's symptoms, and the doctor checked him over, Kurt sitting rigid the entire time, trying to control his irrational fear of the location and the person examining him. 

"Well, you seem perfectly healthy as far as I can tell," the doctor said with a sigh once the examination was over. "Tell you what... head on down to the labs to do some blood work. If anything is wrong, they'll find it." The doctor handed over a slip of paper telling them where to go, and listing the symptoms they had listed earlier. 

They finished up in the lab about forty five minutes after that, and headed home to await results. 

As it turned out, Kurt had a Vitamin B3 deficiency. Nothing serious, he just needed more B3 in his system, so he was prescribed Niacin, a B3 vitamin supplement. 

"Take once daily with food. Symptoms may include: headaches, dizziness, heartburn, swelling, and (rare) periods of memory loss." Kurt read the label with sarcasm lacing his voice. "So I may or may not wind up with all of the same symptoms, as well as a few others." 

Carole chuckled and Finn let out a snort at that. 

"Better than something worse happening, bud." Burt said. "The doc said it would only be right after you took the meds that the memory loss would happen. I'd rather have you not remember an hour a day then find out you collapsed somewhere and not know what was going to happen." 

"I guess... perfect opportunity to vent to me I suppose, if I won't remember it later." He swallowed a pill with his glass of milk and they proceeded to eat dinner. 

"So, Finn, what are the New Directions kids working on this week?" Burt asked, before taking a bite of his pasta. 

"Top 80s hits," Finn replied around his pasta. 

"Finn... chew then speak," Carole gently reprimanded. 

"Sorry, mom," Finn said after he had swallowed. "Artie and I are gonna do 'Land Down Under.'" 

"Does that song have real words?" Kurt scoffed, a playful smile on his face. "I can only make out 'do you speaka my language.'" 

The family snickered and continued their meal much in the same fashion. 

The next day, Kurt was laying on his bed reading his history book when Finn knocked. Kurt called to him to enter, and Finn came in, music in hand. 

"Hey, Kurt, can you help me with this song, I can't get the words to all... fit." 

"Sure, Finn. What song?" Kurt asked, sitting up and pushing his book aside. 

"I told you last night, 'Land Down Under.'" Finn said, shooting Kurt a look that clearly questioned his sanity. 

"You did?" Kurt asked, eyes narrowed in confusion. 

"Yeah, dude... woah... is this what you were saying about your pills making you forget stuff?" 

"I- I really don't remember you telling me... did... when did you tell me?" Kurt asked, growing increasingly bewildered. 

"At dinner." 

"Did- what did we have for dinner? Did we have dinner?" Kurt asked, staring hard at the floor trying to remember. 

"Woah... how much do you remember about yesterday, Kurt?" Finn asked, a bit worried. What if Kurt didn't remember stuff anymore? 

"I remember... everything... everything except dinner. I remember sitting down, and then... nothing... no... I remember reading last night. I remember what I read, but that had to have been around... 7:30." Kurt said, glancing up at Finn. 

Finn shrugged. "We ate around 6, so what, you lost... an hour? That's not so bad." 

Kurt shrugged as well. "The doctor said it could happen. I guess I just need to pick a good time to take the pill then, so I don't lose the memory of something I study at night, or anything like that. It's strange though." Kurt stood up, stretching. "Well, Finn, if you ever have anything to tell me that you know would make me uncomfortable for days on end, tell me after I take the pill, so I can help you and then promptly forget." 

Finn chuckled at that, and the boys trekked off to the dining room to get some snacks for their work session. 

Things went on as normal after that. Kurt told his friends about the effects of the medication, and told them more or less what he had told his family in jest: if you have something weird to say, say it then. They all had a good laugh about it, and moved on, no one taking it seriously. 

About two months after Kurt started taking the medication, Burt came home from the shop in a temper. Someone had called earlier in the day to say, "Your son's a fag" which was immediately followed with vague threats. That on top of little sleep and being out of coffee that morning was enough to make him disgruntled, so when he walked in to find Kurt giving himself a facial, sitting on the couch watching some fashion show on t.v., being so distinctly… _gay_ after that phone call… something in him snapped a little bit. 

He bit his tongue against the harsh words wanting to escape his lips, glancing at the clock. 5:30. Kurt would have taken his medication not fifteen minutes ago. He knew deep inside that what he was contemplating was wrong in every sense of the word. Something in him was screaming at him to walk away... but another, darker part of him was telling him, "_He won't even remember. No harm done."_

Kurt smiled when he saw him, before noticing the look on his face. "What's wro-" 

"You wanna know what's wrong, Kurt?" Burt said quietly. Kurt's expression darkened. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer anymore. "What's wrong is..." Burt sighed, pulling off his hat and running a hand over his head. "Is everyday, something new comes up. And I keep thinking it will get better, but it only gets worse. And that's ok, because I love you kid, I really do-" Kurt started as he realized this was about him. "- but sometimes I really really wish you were different. I wish that I didn't get phone calls saying 'Your son is a fag'. I wish I didn't have to replace our front windows or repaint the house at least once a year. I wish I didn't get funny looks in the store, when I'm shopping. I wish people wouldn't point when you and I are doing errands and stuff. I wish that all of it would just go away..." Burt knew he should really stop. His voice was getting progressively louder and more harsh, and Kurt was staring wide eyed at him, mouth slightly open, looking hurt... and if that didn't just set him over the edge. "Don't you look at me like that. Like you want to cry. That's all you do. _Cry_. Cry, and hope all the bad things will stop, and then keep on being all girly and shit, hell, getting worse even. Drawing more attention to yourself, to us, by acting more and more _gay_ and then wondering why people are all hell bent on mocking the queer!" Burt became aware that he was yelling now, Kurt shying backwards slowly, tears rolling down his face as his face crumpled. But still he couldn't stop without saying, "And more than anything, Kurt, I wish that your mother was here, because she was the one who knew how to deal with you when you got all...faggy."

He stopped abruptly, breathing harshly, before glancing at his son's face. Kurt's arms were wrapped around his stomach, his eyes wider than should be possible. His shoulders were shaking, and tears were pouring out of his eyes, but he was silent. Burt could see the kid's heart breaking... and it broke his heart.

Burt was shocked for a few minutes. He stared at his son in shock as Kurt closed his eyes and slowly walked to his room, closing the door with a soft click behind him. He stared at the spot his son had occupied moments before for what seemed like an eternity.

_'Oh god'..._ he thought. '_Oh god what did I do?' _

Burt glanced towards Kurt's door, closed tightly. He slowly lowered himself onto the couch with a sigh, knowing he had just done something he would regret for the rest of his life. He wallowed for a few moments in self loathing, unable to believe the horrible things he had just said to his child. Thank God Carole and Finn weren't here, Carole would have him strung up by his ears and out of the house so fast he'd get windburn. And Finn was protective as hell of Kurt, something Burt had always been thankful for, but now... 

He had promised his wife on her death bed that he would love and accept Kurt, no matter what. Even then, she had known. He had promised her head never hurt their baby boy. And what had he done?  
>But... the medication. <p>

Kurt wouldn't remember any of this come tomorrow. It would all be ok.  
>Burt grabbed a beer from the fridge, lite, Kurt's insistence, and <em>oh god, Kurt,<em> and sat down in front of the t.v. which was still playing _Project Runway_. Burt sighed, and settled in, taking comfort in knowing this would all be over tomorrow. 

Carole and Finn came home from the mall, where they had been attempting to find clothes to fit Finn's frame, and asked where Kurt was. Burt told them he wasn't feeling well, keeping his eyes fixed on the t.v. Carole went to check in on him, but all she received was a muffled reply through the door of, "I'm fine." Finn wasn't too comforted by that, knowing that when Kurt said he was fine, it usually meant he was anything but, but Kurt seemed to want to be left alone, so he let him be. 

The next day was Saturday. Burt woke up early, determined to make his son's favorite breakfast to make it up to him, even though he knew Kurt wouldn't remember a thing.  
>Carole and Finn came into the kitchen as he was dishing up, both yawning and looking tired. Kurt wandered in about fifteen minutes later, looking down, and in the same clothes he had been wearing yesterday. <p>

"Morning," Finn said. Kurt mumbled a reply, sitting down at the far end of the table from where Burt sat. Fixing his eyes on his plate and taking a small portion of food. 

"You ok, bud, you look a little down." Burt said cheerily to his son. Kurt's eyes flickered up for a moment, before he shrugged and resumed pushing his food around his plate. 

"Yeah, man, you didn't come out of your room last night. Your dad told us you weren't feeling well." Kurt started at that. "How you feeling now?" Finn asked, looking Kurt over. 

"Fine." Kurt said. "I'm... fine. Just had a headache." 

"Oh," Carole said, putting down her fork and bustling out of the room. She came back carrying something in her hand. "These were in my purse last night, honey, I grabbed them by mistake. I meant to grab Ibuprofen." She sat down and placed the bottle in front of Kurt. "Sorry I messed up your schedule, Kurt." 

Kurt glanced up at the pill bottle before reaching out slowly and grabbing it. 

"That's ok, Carole," he murmured. "One night... one night won't kill me." His eyes met his father's for the briefest of moments. Burt's jaw hung open, his eyes wide with horror as realization set in. "Excuse me... I'm not feeling to well again..." Kurt stood and quickly left the room. 

Carole and Finn exchanged a glance, sensing some tension in the air between father and son. They finished eating in silence. Burt simply stared at the chair Kurt had vacated. Carole got up and went to take a shower. Finn went downstairs to play x-box. And Burt put his head in his hands and let out a sob.

His son... he had said terrible, vicious, hurtful things to his son. Things he would kill others for simply thinking about his baby boy. But he had _said _them, _screamed _them at his son, thinking it didn't matter since Kurt would forget anyway. 

But he was wrong. He was so wrong. It was never alright to talk to his son that way, and he knew it. He ignored his most basic instinct as a father to protect his son, and show him only love. 

And Kurt would never forget it. 

Neither would he. 

And it broke his heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: Ok guys, I know that many of you have been asking for a continuation, or a sequel, to this story. I never planned on writing one, as this one was kind of a spur of the moment prompt fill as it was, but with such overwhelming response, I started brainstorming and I am going to be turning this into a multi-chapter fic. **

**What I need from you is reviews. Not in the, "Give me reviews for the next chapter!" way, but in the, "Nothing is set in this story, so your ideas are welcome." Seriously, I want to hear your thoughts and ideas, who knows where this story can take us! **

**So with that, enjoy the next installment of "If Only I Could Forget". **

_Faggy… queer… _

His father's words rang in his head again and again. He pulled himself into a tighter ball under his blankets, tears coming to his eyes.

_Cry… that's all you ever do._

He squeezed his eyes shut. He would not cry. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how he was feeling, no matter how much he wanted nothing more than to just break down and never leave his room again.

He had tried. God, he had tried. He had tried so hard to make his father proud… his mother proud…_More than anything I wish your mother was here…_

He pulled his pillow over his head, choking on a shuddering breath. His whole life, he had wanted nothing more than to make his parents proud of him, and he'd thought he was doing a pretty good job. Sure, there were the rough times, but he and his dad had always been so close, and so in tune with each other. His father had always been so supportive of him. But he had still failed. Kurt had failed his father. That much was evident.

And if his father was so ashamed of him… what would his mother think? He had tried so hard, but he had failed. He had failed everyone.

Now there was nothing left to do but to try to fix it.

Steeling himself, he rolled out of bed, and over to his mirror.

* * *

><p>Finn blasted away at a few more aliens, but something was nagging at his mind. Something had been… off about Kurt and Burt at breakfast. Burt had been weird and Kurt had been extremely quiet… very disturbing. He hadn't been paying too much attention, because it was morning and he was tired and there was food, but even he had sensed the tension.<p>

And then everyone had gone their separate ways and Kurt had seemed upset. Burt didn't even try to follow him. Which meant… which meant Burt probably knew why Kurt was upset… but then why didn't he go talk to him?

Confused and still feeling that nagging feeling, he paused his game and sighed. He reluctantly stood up and made his way back upstairs. Burt was still sitting in the kitchen, his head in his hands.

"Hey, uh, Burt?" Finn said.

Burt's head shot up and he looked at Finn, startled.

"Um… are… do… is Kurt ok?" Finn stammered.

"He's… yeah, buddy, he's ok." Burt said, a small smile forming on his face. "I think just… missing his meds for a night made him a little headachy and grumpy."

"Oh… ok." Finn said. He should have known it was something simple like that. Kurt was always sensitive to these things. "I'm gonna go see if he needs anything."

"Thanks, Finn." Burt stood up and streched a little. "I think I'm gonna head in to the shop… finish up a few jobs."

Finn went upstairs to Kurt's room and knocked on the door.

"Yeah?" was the muffled response from within the room.

"Uhh hey, you ok? Do you need anything? Burt said you might have a headache."

"He said… no. No, I'm fine… thanks."

"Ok… are you su-"

"I'm sure. Thanks though."

Finn shrugged and wandered back downstairs, resuming his alien blasting.

* * *

><p>With a sigh, he opened the bottle and poured the pills into his hand.<p>

_I can do this… I can do this… I will make him proud. _

He looked in the mirror again. It would be hard. It would be a long, painful process, but it was a small price to pay.

He checked his list again. _Hair. Clothes. Voice. Blaine. _Oh, god, Blaine… that would be the hardest. _Glee?_

5 things. 5 things that, for the most part, weren't even really that influential on his life, if he really sat back and thought about it. Except Blaine… oh god, Blaine.

It was going to hurt. It was going to hurt so, so bad. And he might never be able to forgive himself… but it was for his dad…

He rolled the pill between his fingers. Just because this was happening didn't mean he had to remember. He would know soon enough. He would see the results… but he didn't want to remember. He never wanted to remember that it was all because of him. There were some things he would never forget, like the talk with his dad… but he didn't have to remember this. He didn't have to remember any of it.

He swallowed the pill and took one last look in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his hair. He brushed it. And then he grabbed the scissors of his vanity, and he started cutting it.

**A/n: There you have it! Another installment! I hope you enjoyed it, look for the next one! Do you see where this is going yet? I'm evil. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n: I got an idea that I loved from "A Devoted Fan" so I am incorporating that into this chapter. **

Burt sighed as he slammed the hood down on the Ford. The transmission was shot, and would need replacing. As he walked towards the stock room for the part, the phone began to ring.

That damn phone that started this whole mess. If he hadn't gotten that call, he never would have been in such a terrible mood, and he never would have said those horrible things to his son. Such horrible, horrible things…

He looked down at the phone again. Checking caller ID, he saw that it wasn't any number he knew. He picked the phone up and threw it against the wall, watching it shatter, before leaning against the wall and trying not to throw up.

* * *

><p>Burt wasn't home by the time Kurt came down for lunch. He walked slowly down the stairs, hoping there wasn't anyone in the kitchen. Luckily, it seemed Finn had yet to storm through in search of snacks and he was free to get food and retreat back to his room.<p>

He sat down on his bed with his sandwich, eating slowly as he tried to think things through. He moved his hand to sweep his bangs away, his fingertips meeting only his forehead. He sighed. It would take some getting used to, that was for sure. But it was worth it in the long run. If he had to choose between his hair and his dad, he chose his dad.

There was a part of him that wondered why he was so willing to do all this. The things his dad had said had been so spiteful, so mean… but that didn't mean they weren't true.

All his dad had ever wanted was a son that he could play catch with, watch football with, teach about cars and girls and…

And instead he got Kurt. It wasn't his father's fault that Kurt was such a disappointment, and Kurt really couldn't blame him for being disappointed. But he could try to be the son Burt wanted.

That's where his plan came in.

He pulled a notebook and a pen out of his backpack. Just because he didn't want to remember actually cutting his hair didn't mean he wanted to wake up the next day confused as to where it had gone. He would need to remember why he was doing this, and how the changes were happening. So he started writing.

_Kurt…_

* * *

><p>Carole finished placing dinner on the table just as her son came stomping into the kitchen. She glanced at the clock again. Six o'clock and Burt still wasn't home. He must still be at the shop.<p>

Kurt came into the room a few minutes after Finn, and mother and son looked up to greet him.

"Hey, honey, how's- your hair!" She blinked in surprise, tilting her head to take in his new look.

"Um… yeah… do you like it?" Kurt asked sheepishly, touching his now very short hair self consciously.

"Dude… what?" Finn said.

"I just… thought it was time for a change." Kurt said, sitting down across from his step brother. "And this is all the rage right now in Vo- um… I just liked this haircut." _Stupid, Kurt. Less than one day and you are already breaking the rules._

"Well I like it!" Carol said, sensing his discomfort. "Look's like your dad is gonna be home a bit late, Kurt, so we'd best just go ahead and eat. I'll save a plate for him."

"Sure." Kurt's heart sank. His father probably didn't even want to look at him, didn't want to be in his presence. _That will change. The plan will work. It has to work._

Kurt ate quickly before returning to his room to perfect his plan.

"Mom," Finn said after he had left, "is Kurt joining the army?"

* * *

><p>Everything was ready. The system was all worked out, the rules were written down. Now he just had to start.<p>

_Kurt,_

_ You will make him proud. You __must__ make him proud. Because he never did anything to deserve this. You know what you need to do. _

_Hair. _

_Clothes_.

_Voice_.

_Blaine_.

_Glee_.

_It will be hard_. _It will be painful. But it is nothing compared to what you have put him through. The rules are as follows. _

_Do not talk about fashion._

_Do not talk about Blaine._

_Do not sing Broadway._

_More to follow. _

_Every time one of these rules is broken, destroy one article of clothing. This way you accomplish one of the tasks while still training. _

_ Do it for him. Do it for __her__._

_ Make them proud._

He reread the note with a sigh. He had already broken one of the rules. He stood up and walked slowly to his closet, pulling out a sweater that he had bought only recently. He ran his hands over the material, savoring it. _I wish people wouldn't point when you and I are doing errands and stuff. I wish all of that would just go away. _

Clenching the sweater in his fists, he walked over to his vanity. He picked up the scissors, and with a final look at himself in the mirror, he started cutting it up, too.

As the strips of cloth fell to meet the bits of his hair that still lingered on the vanity, he felt a little bit better. Because he was making progress.

**A/n: I hope you know what kind of hair cut it is based on Finn's line before Kurt goes back to his room. That's right. It's SHORT. Like almost buzz cut short. Are you feeling the angst yet people? Thank you all so much for your comments and suggestions, I am taking them to heart! **

**R&R! **

**Love you all,**

**Treenbeen. **


	4. Chapter 4

He looked in the mirror, trying desperately not to hate what he saw. His hair was short. Really short. But he had done a decent job cutting it. He looked his outfit up and down again. Jeans, extremely plain blue jeans and a blue t-shirt. He sighed as he twirled his finger in the hem of the shirt again, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. His door creaked slightly, announcing Finn's arrival.

"Dude, are you ready yet, mom says we're gonna be—um.. wow. You look—uh… jeans." Finn said, clearly puzzled by his stepbrother's change of attire.

"Eloquent as always, Finn," Kurt said quietly, gathering up his school books and putting them into an old backpack from middle school. His shoulder bag wasn't going to cut it anymore.

"Um—are you sure you're ok, dude?" There was something off about Kurt's voice, different somehow.

"Don't call me 'dude', Hudson," Kurt snapped back weakly, making his way past Finn and downstairs. He came to an abrupt halt halfway down.

Burt was sitting on the couch, clearly waiting for Kurt. Kurt felt his palms begin to sweat. He felt a stinging pressure behind his eyes, which he knew always preceded tears. He forced them back, swallowed hard, and kept walking, hitching his backpack up higher onto his shoulder. "Come on, Finn." Burt stood, eyes wide as he took in his son's appearance.

"Kurt—Jesus, kid—what'd you do to your hair?" Burt took a step toward him. Kurt stepped back, pulling a beanie on over his head.

"It was time for a change," he said quickly. "Come on, Finn." Before Burt could say anything else, Kurt was out the door.

* * *

><p>The drive to school was silent. Kurt had agreed to let Finn drive, and sat kind of hunched in on himself in the passenger's seat, lost in thought. Finn didn't interrupt him, feeling pretty confused himself.<p>

* * *

><p>School passed by uneventfully until the passing period before lunch. Kurt stopped by his locker when he felt someone yank his beanie off his head.<p>

"Look at this!" someone yelled, extremely close to his ear. "The fairy is trying to fit in with the rest of the guys. Get sick of looking like a chick?" Kurt's ears burned.

"Give it back," he said quietly, holding out his hand.

"Oh, he's even talking more like a dude? What happened, fairy? Someone knock some sense into you, finally?" said the guy who had stolen his beanie, who Kurt now recognized as a member of the football team. Not one of his usual tormentors, but apparently this was too good of an opportunity to miss. Everyone had seen his beanie, and he had gotten more than one odd look for his choice of clothes. Wouldn't it figure that just as everyone got used to his look, he had to go and change it again? He had also been pitching his voice slightly differently, beginning his transition from his usual countertenor into something… well less girlish.

"Please," Kurt said, again, not changing his tone. "Give it back."

"Sure thing," said the jock, but as Kurt reached his hand out for the hat, the jock moved quickly and plopped it back on his head, yanking it down over his eyes and shoving him hard into the row of lockers behind him. Kurt slid to the floor, thrown off balance, even as he heard a familiar voice call out:

"Szalinski, what the hell?" and the thud of someone else hitting the lockers. Pulling the beanie up out of his eyes, he saw Puck holding the guy by his shirt collar.

"Hey, Puckerman, chill out," the jock, apparently named Szalinski said.

"I thought we made it very clear to you assholes that Hummel is off limits!" Puck snarled. It was then that Kurt realized Mike, Sam, and Artie were behind him, all looking furious. Sam came over and helped Kurt up. Kurt murmured his thanks and picked up his backpack, re-shouldering it.

"Puck, I'm fine. Let him be." He said. "It's not worth it." Puck glowered, but let the guy go with a final shove.

"You ok, Hummel?" Puck asked, genuine concern showing ever so slightly from behind his anger.

"I'm fine," Kurt said. "Thanks." He tried to walk away, but Artie caught his wrist.

"Not just this, Kurt. Are you really ok? You're acting weird."

"I'm fine," Kurt said again. "I'll see you in glee." With that he walked away, leaving the three boys standing in the hallway.

"What the hell was that about?" Sam asked. The other two boys shrugged, just as confused as the blonde.

* * *

><p>Kurt walked into the lunch room and immediately sought out Blaine. He knew he shouldn't, but he just wasn't ready to give him up yet. He found him sitting with Rachel, Mercedes, and Finn, and sat down next to him.<p>

"Hey, babe," Blaine said.

"Hey," Kurt replied, leaning into the one armed embrace Blaine offered him. Blaine looked at him questioningly.

"You ok? You're voice sounds… off. And you are dressed differently than usual." Kurt blushed slightly.

"Slight cold," he said. "I'm fine." Rachel let out a little squeak, scooting farther away from Kurt.

"Stay back!" she said. "I cant' afford to get sick right now. I have a new solo planned for glee that requires a high G, and I can't, can't, can't get sick." Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Hey, Kurt," Mercedes said, "can I borrow your notebook? I need the notes from English on Friday."

"Sure," he said, reaching into his bag for the notebook, when he froze. His letter… he had forgotten to rip out the page and hide is somewhere in his room. If Mercedes opened it and saw the letter… "Oops," he said, thinking up a lie. "I forgot it in my locker. I'll email them to you tonight."

"Ok," she said, and went back to chatting with Blaine. As they all slipped back into their conversations, Kurt smiled slightly to himself. This could work. It would be weird for a while, for everyone, not just for him, but this could work. The voice he could gradually change, the clothes, well… apparently the clothes just made him look more like a guy, which was what he was going for anyway.

Finn was the only one who noticed Kurt's smile grow as he sat there, hugging his backpack like a lifeline.

**A/n: Sorry! I know it took forever and it's short! I got distracted and unmotivated. I've been looking for a new job and kind of working on my other main story, but this story IS NOT DEAD. I swear, I will try to write more often! Sorry! Ah! Anyway, leave me some love. **


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